Demonstration site

So it was written, and so it came to pass, that within the text lay a table, and within the table three rows of three cells each. With styles the lot were bound, that they might appear as he desired, and it was thus: First, the corners were filled with images, as corners aught. Then, the edges were given backgrounds, that they might stand apart, yet together. And finally, within the center-most cell, a background was set, and this text was justly put down for posterity.

And the author said, “This is good, this thing I have done.” And he went for lunch and a drink. And it was good!

Rutting Season

When next we meet Luc, Guy and Pol will have just arrived to a sleepy little town called Saint-Symphorien just 35 miles from Bordeaux, France. The Route De’Bazas (road) is well traveled for this end of spring season. You share the road with many hunters intent on killing the deer that throng the local forest both for sport and for food. Now is the best time to hunt they say, it’s Rutting Season. A time when the bestial sexual lust of animals over rides caution.

Your recent adventures have gained you notoriety and a little well deserved time off from the regular duties of the Guard. Which is convenient because Guy just received a missive from his best friend Robart Mandrou. Robart hails from a very rich merchant family based out of the port city of Bordeax and was Guys faithful companion during the multiple crazy escapades that dotted their school years. They were to join the Musketeers together, but Robart received news from his father that he was forbade to do so and was to return to Bordeax and run the family business. With regret Robart complied stating that his loyalty to his family was stronger then the lure that was adventure.
However, being a single wealthy socialite with financial ties to the Royal Court things turned out OK. He has kept in touch with Guy and has made friends with other members of the Musketeers during his many visits. Hansom and handy with the ladies it was often commented that he would never settle down with a wife. Then he was introduced to Princess Carressa Tiraqueau of the Venice Nobility of Italy.
His father had arranged a marriage of convenience, Lady Carressa’a family had fallen on hard times and were almost destitute where as the Mandrou family had wealth, but no ties to the elite social class- Royalty. At first Robart let everyone know that he was stubbornly against this deal, then he spent time with the Lady and soon his out look changed. Letter after letter came to Guy retelling how smart, beautiful, classy and generous Carressa was. Not to mention that she was a lightning bolt in the sack which was weird because she seemed so demure in public.

In his last letter to Guy he stated that they were to be wed in the Summer. He was away now taking care of affairs in North Africa but will return soon. Lately, he mentions, he has had horrible nightmares consisting of his beloved coming to harm. She is staying with his family in Bordeax and will be travelling with his family to a hunting lodge in the woody area of Saint-Symphorien.

Robart asks if Guy and any companions he wanted to muster could just check up on his fiance and watch over her for the few more days he’ll be gone. Although his father travels with an elite bodyguard, Robart would feel more at ease with a few of the ‘Kings Own’ keeping things safe. And besides…this would be a great opportunity to have his best friend meet his best girl!

With the missive was a substantial amount of currency that would off set any travel costs.

DVD

Jie notices Stian diligently punching in data requests on his hand comp about the new destination. She admires his need for preparedness, but realizes from experience that factual information about the small, volatile world of Noctocol is rare and hard to come by. She stows the requests for items and Ammo that she will take to Gunnery Sgt. Jeitter in hopes that he can provide some needed fire power for the loaner AGV and pulls from one of her multiple pockets a Holo-crystal.

“The Princess docked at Noctocol less than a year ago. A…er… Documentary was made of that expedition. You may want to view this to gain an insight as to the dangers that lay ahead of us, Mr. Løkkeberg. This just may save your life.” Jie says to Stian with a very serious (as usual) look on her face as she passes over the obviously well viewed Holo-crystal.

Experiments in embedding

After a rather dull and uneventful flight due to their being no passengers onboard other than Miranda, the Princess emerged from jump in the Noctocol system the previous afternoon.

Not wanting to approach the Overbluff’s fort on an empty tank, Jie had selected a spot to emerge from jump just outside the diameter of the system’s gas giant. There is still a 12-hour journey ahead to get within range of the large planet though and so everyone simply continues with their training activities. Hidden Stash

It’s the early hours of the morning when pheromones they are close enough to the gas giant to start skimming fuel.

Throughout the period, Max looks longingly at the moon where the party members hidden the cargo of pheromones that they took from the defeated Black Panther. Max is practically begging them to stop off and pick them up, telling them that they are worth a fortune and there should be no problem in moving them on a low law level planet. The other simply ignore him though, which makes Max more and more exasperated. When he realizes that there is no chance of getting the others to change their minds, he heads off to his stateroom in a huff.

It takes a little over half an hour before Grim tells Will that the tanks are now full again. Jie plots the course to Noctocol, inputs the coordinates for Will to follow and he hits the gas as the Princess starts on the long journey to the planet.

The Job

Harpoon enters the 3rd Precinct Interstellar Arrivals Department of Blisten Hub with a plastic cup of coffee in one cybernetic hand and a faux pas leather brief case in the other. He waves, as best he can, to his cube mates as he walks down the cluttered aisle towards his cubicle making early morning small talk about last night’s reality show or an excited grunt about a local sports team when mentioned. He settles his khaki pants wearing behind into the flimsy office chair and powers up the generic office computer. He admires once again his stolen metallic arms as they dully glint in the florescent light of his work cubicle. They are almost as shiny as the plastic trophy on the side of his gray fake wood desk that displays ‘ Employee Of The Week – 145 – 152’

As he begins to sort out reams of plastic sheets from his briefcase to organized piles on his cluttered desk, Harpoon mulls over the last week. When the team arrived back at Glisten on 145 he was already late for his new job here that he had applied for before they left. Luckily, his work ethic, motivation and ability to carry Granade Launchers to the office have really made him stand out in the week he’s worked here. He again admires the trophy hastily given to him by his nervous superiors. Ted pops his head over the partition, takes a sip of his steaming hot coffee flavored beverage and says “Billingsly was looking for you this morning, Harr. You may want to make the Standard Versa File- 208.5 your top priority. Just saying.”

“Zee Ess-Vee-Eff- 208.5? Ett ess a hunk o’ dog sheet. I am working on zee E- Form 56.57.2 and Billingsly can sukk my deeek!” Harpoon say in a nonchalant way. As he begins typing on the keyboard signaling that his chat time with Ted is at an end.

“Just saying.” Ted says sullenly as he slides down into his own cubicle. When he thinks he is unwatched Harpoon hacks into the Incoming Flights Database. Well, it’s not really hacking if you have access to the Glisten Coordinating Authority who owns the Database. Training in administration these last few weeks ensured that he would pass his civil service exams and the fact that he was technically a cripple ensured he could get any job in this stodgy, red-taped choked government he wanted. He wanted this one. Mainly because he could use a search program that would sift through all highly classified incoming flight details and would alert him when certain parameters were met. Parameters like Trexalon, cybernetics retrieval, repossession, Harpoon etc. etc.

Billingsly used the continuous drone of hundreds of typing office workers to mask his footsteps as he prowled up and down the aisles to monitor his staff. He watched Harpoon riffle through sheets of data, work with the stamp and the holepunch then cleared his throat to speak.

“Hmmm, Mr. Poon, somebody has been trying to get ahold of you since early this A.M. They keep calling the main phone and it’s using up the time for other calls on the main phone. Hmmm, Next time they call you will have to talk to them and the time away from your desk might have to be deducted from your daily earning quota, Mr. Poon. Hmmm”

“Hmmm, That’s all fine and well, Mr. Poon.” Billingsly replies like a man who understood nothing the thick accented Avastani born cripple was saying. “Just remember that if it rings you have to answer it. Hmmm”

“It’s ringing now, Sir!!” Ted says excitedly over the partition as he takes another sip of hot drink.

“Hmmm, Thanks Kevin.” Billinsly looks at Harpoon.

Harpoon looks to his computer. His program was only 15% from being done for this day. After it was finished he could bully some thin necked geek into doing the rest of his work then fake some post-traumatic stress to leave early. In an hour he’d be at The Dirty Hoor snorting crushed pain pills and drooling on a hooker. He reluctantly gets up to answer the phone in the central station as Billingsly stealthily continues to walk around and increase productivity.

“Uh… the name is Ted, Sir” Ted says to Billingsly’s uncaring back.

Harpoon gets to the main office phone, flicks the toggle switch to on and the communication screen lights up. He has already organized his thoughts as to which gutter insult would best fit this occasion when he looks at who is calling him. He stands transfixed and the only thing he can say is “Cecilia…”

A flood of memories come rushing back to him all at once. It’s as if his head was dunked in the cold waters of his home world. As a young man, a boy really, he had met Cecilia at a family reunion. When gun fire erupted and his father’s body guard goons went off to kill the foolish would-be assassin, she had grabbed his hand and they both ran to the bunker. There they talked for hours in the diming light as the squeals of terror could be heard from the interrogation room. She told him all about her plans to leave Avastan and become a famous reporter and fashion model and he told her how he would spend his life hunting whales in the shallow ice filled sea. As the days went on that summer they found excuses to leave the grown-ups and be together more and more often. Because they were very closely related, they figured it would be a good thing to keep their burgeoning love a secret. They were very careful and no one, especially her two older brothers Jorge and Hernan, ever suspected. In time they found themselves inside his boat tied to the docks. Tommorow their families would part ways and it would be a long time till he would see her again, but tonight…tonight was theirs.

That night Cecilia made him a man…twice. As they lay in each other’s sweat soaked arms he came up with a plan. They would escape this place together! They would travel the star ways on adventure after adventure! He knew that a rich off worlder merchant named Swenson was docked at his father’s estate and was wanting to take aboard a young steward to train. Neither of their families would allow them to go, but if we sneak aboard maybe he’ll take us both!! Cecilia just caressed his luxurious black hair while her newest lover rambled. She seemed to be waiting for something.

Just then the port hold doors flew open and silhouetted against the cold sky was Jorge and Hernan. Somehow they had found them. They reached in and grappled the naked man then pulled him out of the boat as Cecilia stayed off to the side and gathered her clothes. Against his protestations they beat him senseless, his only defense was to proclaim his undying love for their sister. As he lay there broken on the icy shore, he looked through swollen eyes at the two men and Cecilia walking away towards the Estate. He begged her to return to him at the dawns light. She kind of did a half-wave, shrugged and continued walking.

The next day his Father was furious when he heard the news of the broken taboo. That was when he sent his youngest misbegotten son into the military and to be put into a Death Squad far away from home. Cecilia’s family could not bear the shame of her actions and paid the visiting foreign space merchant to take her aboard as a Steward. She could not have been happier to start making her dreams come true.

“…then I got a message from them saying Jorge was killed in the fire fight and they’ll kill Hernan and the other survivors if I don’t come up with the money…” The woman on the screen again bursts into tears as her expensive eye liner streams down her face. She is just as beautiful and young to Harpoon as the day they met. Her black wavy hair and curves of her neck are remembered playgrounds that he now touches with his eyes.

“The Madusa ,their Far Trader, was slightly damaged by the Jonkeereen guarding the Water/Fuel on that hellish little desert world. It remains secure for now, but my husband will only let me have enough credits to hire a few mercenaries and even that pay won’t be much. That planet is so far away from here. Then I thought of you and your group of men. Could you? Could you go to Callia and save my my precious brother, Hernan Delgado, his men, his ship and the escaped prisoner Elliot Powell?”

Harpoon looks deep into her eyes. They are so blue. As blue as the cold sea of his dreams.

“Cecilia…”

“Yes, Egbert?”

“Piss-Off.” Then he snaps the toggle switch off.

He returns to his cubicle. Thoughts and emotions swarm around his head like flies circling a dog turd. They all fall to the way side however, as he absently looks to his computer screen and sees a photo of himself being broadcasted to local authorities. The analyzer program connected the dots and pin pointed a Trexalon frigate that will dock in two days and release a small company of cybernetic repo men who are looking for the very familiar man on the screen and his stolen robotic arms (and spine and hips and leg bones meshed with Trexalon steel and various other copy righted internal doo-dads). They just received a Mercenary License and permission to use extreme force in apprehending the above displayed thief and any of his known cohorts.

“Uh?” Ted says as he spies the screen and its details from over the partition.

Harpoon quickly turns and jabs a syringe full of Rohypnol into Ted’s jugular. As Ted spasms out into the aisle, Harpoon runs a deletion program on his computer and puts the plastic desk award into his pocket. Then he takes a small thermite grenade out of his plaid thermos and sets it in the middle of his workspace. He hastily walks though the gathering people standing around the now very comatose neighbor as his cubicle erupts in a controlled flame burst, ensuring a quick, localized burn. He walks to the central phone and violently shoves Billingsly into the wall and out of the way, stopping him as he tried to call for help. Harpoon presses the return call button and just as the fire sprinkler system kicks in dowsing everyone with water. Cecilia’s tear stained face appears on the wet screen.

To Kill A God

One of the team still has connections with Imperial Naval Intelligence. They want us to sneak onto a restricted planet called Pavibid and hypnotize their leader. This guy is the head of the main religion/government and fancies himself a God. This is Taeva’s list.
The mission is a sucess, but fraught with danger. Below is a picure of this guys floating castle.

Party down on Collace

The bad delivery

We jump to Collace no problem, but are attacked as soon as we arrive. Some assassins are gunning for a rich merchant on board. In the process of repelling the killers we accidently rip open one of the corgo containers. A whole bunch of badges saying “FREECOLLACE” free float off into outer space. We become famous for a while but our old boss is PISSED.